Cassandra winced as the hot curling stick made contact with her neck, jolting her awake from the brink of drowsiness. The stylist wielding the tool looked apologetic, a hint of fear in her eyes as she anticipated a scolding. However, Cassandra raised a hand to reassure her.
"Don't worry about it," Cassandra said with a small smile. "I was just a bit sleepy, and my head was all over the place. No harm done."
The stylist visibly relaxed, grateful for Cassandra's understanding. She resumed her work, careful to avoid any further mishaps with the styling tools.
Later that day, the triplets approached Cassandra with infectious excitement, declaring that a farewell party was in order, and they wanted her to be the radiant center of attention. Dragging her to the styling room at the early hour
